Hope Rises like a Phoenix
by CamsthiSky
Summary: "Bruce doesn't say anything when the tears prick at his eyes and he has to bury his face into his father figure's chest. The day his parents fell. The day that had changed everything. Even so many years later, he can't figure out why it still hurts so much. And why it's always really only today that's the worst?"


**jerseydevious asked: _dick with "let go"? ;)_**

* * *

Dick wakes up slowly. Everything's hazy at the very edges when he opens his eyes, still tinged with the softness of sleep. There are fingers running through his hair, and his head is in someone's lap. There's sunlight filtering through the curtains of the living room, and he's asleep on the couch, he realizes. The TV plays soft in the background.

It's—it's something straight out of his first year at the manor, even though it's been around fifteen years since then.

"Bruce?" he whispers. "Wha—"

But Bruce hushes him. "Go back to sleep, Dick," he says, his voice unusually gentle. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Dick doesn't know why he's on the couch in the living room, or why his head's in Bruce's lap, but he thinks that the why doesn't really matter right now. He's content, and that's enough. He goes back to sleep.

* * *

When he wakes up again, Bruce _is_ still there, but Dick's feeling a lot less content than when he was last awake. The room isn't _actually_ darker than before, but there's a gray hue to the world, and Dick can't help but tense up in anticipation for what this day will bring.

"Are you awake?" Bruce asks quietly, his fingers never stopping as they run through his hair.

"Yes," Dick whispers. His chest tightens, and there's this lump in his throat that he can't seem to swallow past. Bruce seems to sense this, because he nudges Dick off of his lap to sit up and curls an arm around Dick to bring him close. Dick falls into the embrace easy.

Bruce doesn't say anything when the tears prick at his eyes and he has to bury his face into his father figure's chest. The day his parents fell. The day that had changed everything. Even so many years later, he can't figure out why it still _hurts_ so much. And why it's always really only _today_ that's the worst.

But Bruce understands. He always understands. Always keeps track of everything. And Dick's glad for once that Bruce knows how to deal with something like this. It makes him feel less alone.

"Sorry," Dick says, his voice thick with tears. "Sorry, Bruce."

"I know it hurts," Bruce tells him, squeezing him lightly as he tucks Dick's head under his chin. "I know it doesn't feel good right now, but you know that tomorrow is going to look just a little brighter."

"I know," Dick sniffs.

Bruce nods. "Good."

And they stay like that for a long time. Even in his twenties, even grown up, Dick's almost never felt safer and more at home than in Bruce's arms.

* * *

"Will you stay with me today?" Dick asks after a while. Bruce pulls away slightly, looking confused by the question, and Dick wipes at the cheeks and elaborates, "It's just, last year I didn't even go visit them. It was only me, Damian, and Alfred. And I didn't get to just…sit here with you."

He couldn't have gone. He hadn't even realized the anniversary had passed until a week later. He'd been waist deep in trying to juggle the cowl and Wayne Enterprises and _Damian,_ and there had been no time to grieve at his parents' graves. All three of them.

Now that there is, now that he's already gone today, he doesn't want to be alone.

"Of course I'll stay," Bruce says, an understanding look in his eyes. It's rare nowadays to see this side of Bruce, but the anniversaries of loved ones were something that everyone in this messed up family understood.

"Wait what?" Tim asks, poking his head into the living room and blinking at the two on the couch. "I thought you were going to drop me and Steph off at the mall today. You know, since Alfred is currently babysitting?"

Dick closes his eyes, because he really should have expected something like this. When he opens his eyes, he also pulls away from Bruce and sits up a little straighter. Bruce looks irritated, maybe by the fact that Dick's getting up or the fact that Tim interrupted them. But either way, he doesn't look happy.

"Don't worry about it, B," Dick says, pushing himself to his feet. "I'm going to see if I can get a hold of Wally or Roy or someone."

"Dick," Bruce protests, grabbing Dick's wrist before he can get too far. "I can drop Tim and Stephanie off and then come back. It won't take too long."

Tim winces, and Dick finds himself getting irrationally angry. Bruce spreads himself too thin, makes empty promises sometimes, and Dick doesn't really appreciate it right now. "I'll be fine, Bruce. Besides, Jason's coming over today, isn't he?"

He is. They both know it. Jason had said that today had been the only day he wasn't working, so Bruce had invited him over to work on a case. Dick had encouraged it when he'd found out, happy to see that his family was finally trying to get along after such a long time. Except, that had been before Dick had realized what day today _is._

"Yes," Bruce says, stubborn as ever. "But I can reschedule."

"No, you can't," Dick says. If he does, then Jason will never try to come over again, too afraid that Bruce is trying to forget about him. That can't happen. Dick tugs at the wrist Bruce is still holding. "Let go, Bruce. I'll be fine."

Bruce does, but there's this pinched look on his face. Tim is watching both of them with wary eyes, maybe waiting for an argument. But Dick's not in the mood to argue with anyone right now. Especially not Bruce. He's angry, but he's also sad and _grieving._ He won't fight with Bruce for just trying to be a good parent.

Even if sometimes he royally sucks at it.

"We'll stay in tonight," Bruce decides, without even consulting Dick, but all Dick can do is sigh.

"Fine," He says as he walks past Tim, wishing that he didn't feel so alone and _empty_ as he says it. "We'll stay in."

* * *

One successful phone call to Wally and one failed phone call to Roy later, Dick's staring into his bowl of cereal, like if he waits long enough, it'll give him the answers to the meaning of life. Dick snorts. Meaning of life? Hell if he knows.

 _"_ _Hey,_ you brat! We haven't even started yet!" Dick hears from the hallway, and he startles, looking up just as Jason does a tuck and roll into the kitchen holding— _gun._ That's a gun. In the _manor._ Dick stands up, wallowing and cereal completely forgotten as he opens his mouth to—well. He doesn't know what he's going to say, but just as he goes to say it, he's hit in the forehead with a nerf gun dart.

Dick stares at the dart as it falls into his cereal bowl, and then he looks at Jason, and then past Jason to where Damian's standing frozen in the door, sporting a— _they're nerf guns._ They're having a nerf gun war.

It's like the world's frozen for a second, just the three of them staring at each, and then Jason yells, "I get Dickface on my team!"

Damian stomps his foot. "That leaves you Drake and I a team member short," he huffs, crossing his arms. "It's not fair when you and Grayson are both more proficient at shooting a gun than anyone else participating."

"Too bad, Demon Brat," Jason snickers, grabbing Dick's wrist and marching him towards Damian. Dick's too bewildered to protest. "Dick's on mine and Steph's team now, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Hey!" Tim says, jogging down the hallway with Cass and Stephanie in tow. "I finally managed to convince Cass to play."

Damian looks a little put off, but he grumbles, "Fine. Then Grayson can be on your team, Todd."

Steph pumps her fist into the air. "Sweet! Let's get this showdown started!"

The entire conversation, Dick's sitting there with Jason holding onto his wrist while he gapes like a fish out of water. His whole family—minus Bruce and Alfred—have decided to have a nerf gun war. _Without_ Dick having to coerce them into anything. It's amazing.

But Dick also really just wants to find Bruce and cry until he falls asleep. He doesn't—

"Dick?" Tim asks, a hesitant look on his face. "Bruce told me about today. If you don't want to play—"

"I'm fine," Dick tells him, sending Tim a small smile. He's a performer after all. He may not feel good, but he's not going to pass up the chance of having his whole family in one place. And maybe if he plays, that tight feeling in his chest will finally go away. He can cry and wallow in self-pity later. "I'll play."

Jason raises an eyebrow in his direction, but Dick sends him back a frown warning him off and Jason just raises his hands in surrender. "Whatever, Goldie. Let's get this show on the road."

"Two teams, then," Damian says, scowling. He holds up two fingers and continues, "We are playing with what Brown has designated as 'Capture the Flag rules.'"

"What are the flags?" Tim asks.

Stephanie grins and holds up—wait.

"Are those my old Superman pajamas?" Dick asks, bewildered. "And isn't that Jason's old Wonder Woman shirt?"

"No," Stephanie says, her smile completely and totally vicious, "It's his new one."

"Hey!" Jason yells, pouncing for it, but Steph dodges. "You can't be on my team anymore, Steph. Cass! You're on mine and Dick's team now! Tim and Damian can have Steph!"

"We called Cass," Tim argues. "Besides, you and Steph teamed up first. You're stuck with her."

"Timmy," Steph gapes, still dodging Jason's attempt to grab his Wonder Woman shirt. "I'm offended. You don't want to be with me?"

"You _literally_ hit me in the face with the nerf gun at the mall."

"So?"

Tim rolls his eyes. "We get Cass. Jason, you're stuck with Steph."

Jason growls and manages to grab his shirt from Stephanie. "Fine. But we're using a different flag."

Damian scoffs. "Ridiculous."

And Dick, watching his family bicker and argue over a game, can't help it when his eyes burning. Jason's still holding his wrist, so he brings his other hand up to cover his eyes and ducks his head, hoping to hide the action. But he can't hide the sound of his sobs he can _feel_ when his family freezes, and their arguing cuts off.

"Dick," Tim says, sounding pained, but Dick just shakes his head.

"I'm okay," Dick croaks out, the tight feeling loosening. "I'm—"

He's _happy._ Yes, he's sad, but his whole family. His _entire family,_ is here. All of his siblings. And he's sure that Bruce and Alfred are somewhere in the manor, too. They're all here, and Dick—Dick's so _happy._

That warmth from earlier, when he'd been sleeping in Bruce's lap, it's back. The cold, empty feeling is gone, and all he can feel is the love from this family him and Bruce had managed to find, someway, somehow.

Yes, he misses his parents, and he knows that ache will never go away. But it doesn't mean that he doesn't have any family. For some reason, he'd forgotten that. Last year had been hell, just him and Damian and Alfred, his entire family in pieces, and it took _this_ to make Dick realize that his family is finally back together again.

He's happy. He's _so_ happy.

And he looks up, tears in his eyes, and says, "Let's play."


End file.
